


The King Of Chelsea

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon, Romance, Spoilers, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-05
Updated: 2006-05-05
Packaged: 2018-12-29 02:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: After Justin ran away to New York, Brian and the gang never found him again. Years later they meet their boy again. Only he now is the stud of New York and lives pretty much like Brian always did...





	The King Of Chelsea

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes:

It's my first time, please be gentle. ;-) This is the first fic I ever wrote I dared to post. I know my English isn't perfect, if anyone likes my idea and would like to beta for me, please contact me! I need feedback, pretty please! 

* * *

**Vacation in New York**   


***  
  


“Tell me again why you all had to come with me to New York“ Brian asked his friends while they strolled down the street.  
“Because, my dear friend, we are your best – your only – friends and we never had time to explore this fabulous city the last time we were here all together, because we had to search for that boyfriend of yours, Justin.” Emmett smiled at Brian and them let his gaze follow a guy who was walking by who was dressed as colorful as Emmett although he was probably ten years younger.  
Brian glared at him. “He wasn’t my boyfriend, I don’t do boyfriends.”  
Ted snorted. “That’s why you forced us to look for him for nearly two weeks – in New York City – without calling the police so that he wouldn’t get into trouble for stealing your money – and you would have stayed longer, probably until you had found him, if Ryder wouldn’t have called you back and if Michael hadn’t managed to convince you that the boy just needed some time for himself to pout and that he would come back to anyway.”  
“Yeah, well, he never did.”  
Michael looked at his friend’s unhappy face. “That shows that he never really cared for you. You are better off without him. And I can’t believe we are talking about him now. For Christ’s sake, it’s been eight years! Just forget him already!”  
“Yeah”, murmured Brian softly. His friends were walking ahead of him and didn’t notice his sad look. He heard some guys behind him talking. What brought him to attention was that it almost sounded as if they were describing him.  
“He fucks anybody just once, what did you expect? That he would keep you as his boyfriend? Others have tried…”  
“You should have seen his place… All that expensive furniture and stuff… Does anyone know what he does?” The men started walking slower and were getting out of hearing range. Ted, Emmett and Michael turned around, from their looks it was obvious that they had listened too.  
“Sound familiar?” asked Ted Brian. “Do you think they were talking about this so-called ‘King of Chelsea’ again?”  
Michael shrugged, disinterested. “Probably. We’ve been here for four days and from day one everybody here was talking about him. Like he is some celebrity. It really is annoying, don’t you think?”  
Emmett shook his head at his friend. “Just because for a change we are not at home and it’s not your best friend they are talking about. I find it kind of cool that there is somebody who is a competition for Brian here. I’d love to meet this guy. I’m sure he looks just great, I mean, everybody here seems to fancy him.”  
Brian grinned. “I bet he is some muscle-packed pea-brained bodybuilder.”  
Emmett looked at him. “It’s not really his brains I’m interested in, you know?”  
Michael’s gaze followed the group of men they had overheard. They seemed to be heading for some club a few metres down the street. “I don’t believe we’ve been there yet, have we? Do you think we should give it a try?”  
Brian looked at the line of guys who tried to get in. “Looks like it is rather popular – let’s go for it!” Whit that said he strode purposefully towards the front of the line. He was Brian Kinney, he didn’t need to wait to get into a gay club. Only, he did. The bouncer mustered him from his beautiful, auburn hair to the expensive label shoes, let his look wander over the rest of the gang, and told them to move their asses to the end of the line. Disappointed, they strolled along all the waiting men, some of whom gave them pitying or gloating looks. Most of them seemed to be in their twenties and thirties. And most of them were damned hot, as Emmett pointed out. They were a very mixed crowd, white, colored, Latin-Americans and Asian looking guys. Bears, twinks, drag queens and everything between mixed with guys that looked like the friendly fag next-door. The boys let their eyes wander over the people in front of them. “Looks a lot like home, don’t you think?” asked Ted. He sounded relieved, Ted never was quite at ease in strange places. Brian wondered why he felt at home in a crowed, dark, loud and impersonal place like the Babylon. But maybe, he thought, the guy just hung out there because his friends were there.  
Two young men, they looked about twenty-five, strolled past them. One of them, a man dressed nearly as flamboyant as Emmett, noticed them in the line. He waved at Emmett, said a few words to his companion and went over to them. He smiled at Emmett. “Hey, haven’t we met at that shop today? You were in the Oscar Wilde Bookshop, too, weren’t you? Emile, right?”  
“Emmett”, said the man in question, “you’re Paul, right?”  
“Yeah, right. Sorry, my memory for names never was that great. I’m happy to be able to remember the names of my friends and my mother you know?”  
Emmett grinned. “No problem. You headed for this club, too?”  
The man nodded. “It’s our place. Our gang, we’re here nearly every day. Have you been here before?” Paul’s companion, a young black guy with hair like Bob Marley, and a black-green-yellow cap, joined them now. “Hey, man, what’s up with these guys?” he asked in a perfect New York accent.  
“Nothing’s up with us, and no, we haven’t been here before.” Brian stared at the guys who looked so different and wondered if they were friends or an item. Both seemed equally unlikely. But then, he was sort-of-friends with Ted and Emmett, too. “Do you two know how we can get in faster?” he asked. He tried to sound casual and a little bored, because he didn’t want them or his friends to see how much it annoyed him that the bouncer hadn’t let them pass. At home, every bouncer knew him – some of them intimately – and he never had to wait in the long line that formed on the doors of Babylon on weekends.  
The two younger men nodded. “Sure, come on.”  
They quickly passed the long line of men and approached the guy at he door. He looked fleetingly at Paul and his friend, then at the Liberty gang, and waved them trough the door.  
“Thank you, guys. He seems to know you very well.” Michael smiled at their new friends.  
“Yeah”, the rasta guy said, “as we told you, this is our place. I’m Billy, by the way.” He smiled at the men and showed them two rows of shining white teeth. The Liberty Boys introduced themselves, and after Brian had said his name – still in a bored tone – Michael couldn’t keep quite any longer and exclaimed, “he’s the King of Liberty avenue, that’s the gay district of Pittsburgh. He’s almost like, a celebrity there. I heard some guys talking about the so-called King of Chelsea, have you guys any idea who he is?” As he had to take a break to get some air, the men interrupted him quickly. “Yeah, in fact, he belongs to our gang. He’ll join us later. Why don’t you boys come with us and we’ll wait at the bar. We can have a few drinks, wait for the rest of our gang and you can tell us what four cute guys from the Pitts are doing in our big city.” With that, Paul turned around and led them past the doors where the dance floors, stages and catwalks were to a little bar in the back part of the club. It was more silent here, there was some rock music playing but not too loud to disturb any conversations. They found themselves a corner on the bar and ordered some drinks – Michael beer, Ted and Emmett Cosmos, just like Paul, Billy a Cuba Libre and Brian his usual Beam.  
Billy shook his head. “Do all famous studs drink Beam? It’s what our ‘King’ drinks, too.”  
Brian shrugged and sipped his beverage of choice.  
“So, do tell – Emmett said that you were here to accompany a friend who had to do some business in NYC and that you decided to use it as an opportunity to visit the city.”  
“Yeah, that’s Brian, the friend who has business here. He started his own advertising agency a few years back and thinks about opening a second office here.” Michael told them. Brian glared at his friend.  
“Am I allowed to talk for myself or do you want to tell them the story of my life with me standing here to listen to it?”  
Michael looked a little dumbstruck. “Sorry, Bri. What crawled up your ass and died?”  
“He misses his boy.” Answered Ted instead of Brian. “This town reminds him of him.” He turned to their new friends, who were now talking about the clothes the men nearby wore. Well, Emmett and Paul were talking, Billy looked like he might strangle them any moment. “A few years ago Brian had this very cute, younger lover who one day made a little mistake. Brian got angry and threw him out of his loft. The boy ran away to New York and we never heard of him again, but Brian still misses him. He would never admit that, tough.”  
Brian glared at Ted. “He wasn’t my lover, his mistake wasn’t so little and I certainly don’t miss him.” Ted just glanced knowingly at him.  
“That’s funny, New York seems to be just the place for run-aways.” Billy seemed to be glad that the conversation had turned away from pink leather pants and see-through tops. “Our friend is also one. In fact… I think there he is: The King of Chelsea!” He proclaimed and gestured towards the door.  
The Liberty Gang’s collective jaws hit the floor. There, surrounded by admirers, with two more friends in tow, looking devastatingly beautiful and moving like he owned the club, came one Justin Taylor.  


***


End file.
